I’m swept off my feet and planted onto his lap. The air leaves my lungs with a whoosh as my legs are submerged in the frigid water. My gown floats around me, and I’m painfully aware of the fact that I wear nothing beneath it. He maneuvers me around until his hardness is nestled within my folds, but not breaching my marriage box.
His mouth crashes down on mine with aggression and urgency. My palms flatten on his pectoral muscles as I dig my fingertips into his wiry chest hair. His hands travel up my gown to cup my achy breasts. I squeeze his fingers into my flesh to teach him how I like to be touched. My jaw drops, and his tongue invades. My eyelids flutter closed. I test rocking back and forth to stimulate my clit like I do when I find bliss on my fingers.
He growls against my lips, mouthing his way to my ear.
“Take your pleasure, princess. My life, my body, my purpose is to serve you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
FRANKLIN
Imay have jeopardized my audience with the king, my chance at parchment, and my daily visits from Lilyfair, but watching her come apart on my cock was worth it. If I die tomorrow, I’ll go with a smile on my face. She’s gorgeous when she lets go. The image is burned into my brain for the rest of my days. Her little squeaks as she tries not to scream are precious before she buries her face in my chest to muffle them. She twitches with aftershocks as her hips slow their frantic rocking to languorous rolls.
I pepper kisses over her hair, wishing our water was warmer so I’d have the chance to wash it. If only I could treat her to the same massage she treated me to and make her feel as loved and cherished. After a shiver, she pulls her knees to her chest to curl into a ball. My erection withers at her discomfort. Since my life depends on ejaculating on demand, it’s probably for the best I don’t waste my seed in the bathwater, anyway.
It’s also best for her if we stop this now…
With one arm holding her close, and the other firmly holding the lip of the tub, I leave the water. Cold air surrounds us, causing her shivering to increase and vibrate my arms. As muchas I want to savor my first time undressing her, I must warm her before she gets sick. It is rare for Fae to become sick, and she has already told me about multiple hot baths because she was ill. Her status as a hybrid must be kept a secret for her to remain safe. If I’m not here to protect her—because I’m banished or worse for this—I must rely on her father and guards to keep the Fae from turning on her.
Luckily, she placed two fluffy towels on the sink before I stepped into the tub, or I’d never find them. We leave her soaked nightdress in the tub. Her protests are half-hearted as I wrap one towel around her shaking body and use the other to pat dry her hair. When the flush returns to her cheeks, I sweep her into my arms to put her to bed. My cock hits my belly as I traverse the room, so I lean back to keep the tip from grazing her back. She mustn’t think I expect any reciprocation from her.
“Oh no, not yet,” she whispers, kicking out of my arms so she hits the bed. “I must put myhealth creamon my skin when I exit the bath. That’s the most important time. If I don’t put it on now, my skin will be shriveled from head to toe by morning. Then I will be confined to my rooms.”
I put my palms up in a gesture for her to stay and lift the covers. She presses her lips together, but she doesn’t protest when I tuck her sheets and coverlet over her. Using the damp towels I retrieve from her to dry myself, I revel in our combined scents. We didn’t mate, but if we did, her skin would carry this smell…instead of just mine from herhealth cream.
“How did you know which jar was the cream I wanted?” She asks when I return with the blue pearl jar with the lilies on it. “You trusted me when you came here. I trusted you when I climaxed in your arms. We’re a team,” she adds, taking my hand in hers.
How do I explain that wearing my seed is how she keeps from aging? Do I tell her the story about how her mother left becauseshe was human? It will break her heart, but she deserves to know. Everyone else shelters her, treating her like a child. She deserves to know she’s a hybrid and the danger surrounding her. I must be brave enough to tell her; I just hope that she will let me pick up her pieces when she crumbles.
Holding her gaze, I pump my shaft with our joined hands. My chest inflates with pride when her eyes dip to watch. Her tiny tongue licks her lips, instinctively hungry for me. Just watching her expressions hardens me to iron once more. It doesn’t take much to produce a bead of pre-fluid on my tip, as our bathroom activities already have me primed. I collect it onto her thumb and lift our hands to her nose. When she stares at me quizzically, I sniff at her.
Her eyes widen with surprise.
I nod that what she smells is correct. Herhealth creamis my seed.
“You’re a prisoner because I need your…yourhealth cream? It’s my fault you’re locked in a cage. Why don’t you hate me? Do you like me for me or because I smell like you?” She asks with a trembling lower lip. “I don’t know much about hubulls…or really any creature besides Fae…does this bond us in a way that forces you to want to be around me?”
My head shakes vehemently, and I wish I had my dust to write to her. I put my hands in a heart shape on my chest and allow them to break apart to fall to my sides. She nods, but her eyes are full of tears.
She doubts me…doubts us.
I grab the book she dropped on the floor when I entered and flip the pages on her lap. I point to the words I want as she reads them aloud. “I loved you first.”
Damn book doesn’t contain the wordseed…why couldn’t she have been reading about agriculture?
“I chose your friendship first. I give freely to you. You’re worth the cage,” she reads. Her voice chokes on the last sentence. Tears overtake her lashes and fall onto her cheeks. “I don’t deserve your kindness, but I’m bratty enough to take it anyway,” she whispers, laughing through her tears.
With a grin at her naughtiness, I shove the jar into her hands. If our lives depend on it, she must apply it. I would never forgive myself if she woke up with wrinkles that betray her heritage, and some guard declares her spell struck or defective before King Marigold can intervene. As much as a hubull boasts about his future mate wearing his seed during courting, the kingdom must never know she wears mine, which is why I glare at her for placing the jar on her bedside table.
Is she rejecting her remedy because she knows its source?
“Don’t growl so loud. You’ll wake Rosemary,” she scolds in a loud whisper. I didn’t know I was growling… But I guess I was. My mind may understand her unease with herhealth cream, but my instincts view this as a female rejecting my proposal to become my mate. “I want to experiment tonight. Will the effects last longer if the cream is fresh from the hubull?”
I swallow my tongue. The book falls to the floor once more. She wiggles into bed until she lies flat on the mattress. Kicking the covers off, she reaches above her head and grabs the wooden headboard, curling her fingers into the elaborately carved design. She’s laid herself out like a feast. I don’t think she’s accurately estimated the volume of seed I produce at once. Her little jar is filled with less than one climax. I will soak her.
Yes, I will soak my mate…
Before I can shake my head or pick up the book to talk about this, she grips my cock in her tiny fist. “Will I waste it if I use this clear fluid to make my fist slide easier? That’s how I do it, right? I milk your seed by pumping my fist?”
